Obscurity
by BlurredOasis
Summary: This is a collection of five fics, each centered around a different Ronin. There is no correlation between the five besides they are completely random and funny. Honest. Warning: some yaoi hints, violence, swear words and other such mayhem.
1. Pumpkin Seeds

_Introduction and Warnings_

I have a bad habit of being unable to write a short story. What starts off as a small idea grows like a mud ball going down a hill. So I decided to force myself to write something short, with a plot of sorts, and that makes sense. Well, I got one outta three at least. Each short story is 'centered' around one Ronin (hence why there are five fics! Brilliant!). There is a lot of... crazy stuff in these. I did this on purpose because each 'confusing' thing to you is actually a memory of something that I think of when I think of the Ronins. For instance, the first story is Sage's and its called Pumpkin Seeds. There was a manga that every other word out of Sage's mouth he was requesting pumpkin to eat (I think it was actually only twice, and it was 'Seiji' not Sage but still. Who asks for pumpkin?). So when I hear pumpkins now, I think of the blond begging for some of the vegetable. Most other goof ball things in here started off like that. Everything has a purpose, down to the even the order of the fics. Some things are directly from RW, some are from other shows, and some are from my life. Yes, unfortunately some of these things are actually real. Anyways, enjoy my nonsense, I hope you have fun!

Warnings: There is one fic literally dripping with innuendos directed towards both genders (though they are mainly directed towards the male persuasion) and even some hinted plant love. I don't want to spoil which Ronin's it is so just look for the bold title. There are yaoi hints in the others, swear words, violence, questionable name calling, plant love, gun love, evil Manchester, many many nose bleeds, are you even reading these, and some curious blokes. You've been warned.

* * *

_Pumpkin Seeds_

Sage enjoyed his bonsai. Very much. While his friends taunt and teased him about his daily habits (who says three hours doing their hair is too long!), the plant never spoke a bad word about its master. The fact it never spoke at all is completely beside the point.

"Oh, my cute little bush. You are an adorable plant, aren't you? So fluffy." Sage normally didn't talk like this, but his bonsai made him do weird things.

Rowen walked into the bedroom, scowling when he saw Sage bent over the plant. He twitched slightly as Sage continued.

"Yes, you are. You are so beautiful." He cooed in a tone that should be reserved for children under the age of six months.

"Why, thank ya Sage. That's so nice of ya." The swordsman jumped about five feet and whirled around, a frown on his face. Rowen smirked as he continued into the room more. "Would ya like me to get ya a pink tutu?"

"Shut up." He hissed, flopping down onto the bed.

"Ah, my little usuratonkachi."

"Shut up." Sage hissed again. "Don't call me that."

Rowen didn't respond back, but was still ginning.

There was silence for a second, Rowen letting his roommate fume. "Ya know, Sagie--"

"Don't call me that." Sage mumbled, but his voice wasn't as forceful as before.

"--ya really oughta get out more."

"And you really oughta shut up."

"Well, why don't we go out?"

Sage's head whirled to face Rowen and they both blinked for a few seconds before Sage opened his mouth.

"You are not quite my type."

"'Cuz I'm not made of sugah and spice and everythin' nice?"

"No, because--"

"I don't wear a tutu?"

"No, because--"

"I'm not 5'4", _ebony_ hair, _sapphire_ eyes, and 125 pounds?"

"No, Rowen--"

"'Cuz I'm not--"

* * *

(In Sage's mind)

Personality 1: Emergency meeting! We have a problem!

Personality 8: Can we kill Rowen?

Personality 6: Ohh, or tie him up? We did just buy some fuzzy handcuffs...

Personality 7: You guys are all going to Hell.

Personality 2: At least we had fun!

Personality 3: Speak for yourself. This life has been nothing but an endless spin of angst and questionable feelings--

Personality 6: Questionable? I don't know about you boys but I know exactly what I want!

Personality 4: Miao, miao.

Personality 2: Hey, who let the french cat out!

Personality 8: Kill 'em all!

Personality 1: Be quiet, all of you! We need to figure out a way to get Rowen to shut up. Suggestions?

Personality 2: Go to the club.

Personality 3: What does it matter? We all are going to die.

Personality 4: Miao miao?

Personality 5: The unbalance of the world would soon fix itself and everything will be peaceful once again. Om...

Personality 6: Has nobody been listening to me? We have handcuffs! Why are we sitting around here and questioning what to do! Handcuffs people, _handcuffs_!

Personality 7: Douse him in Holy Water!

Personality 8: Kill him! Kill him! Take him down at the ankles!

Personality 1: Why do I even ask you guys anything? (Stalks off)

Personality 3: Ack! The leader left! What do we do, whose in charge! (the personalities look at each, panic stricken) Run for your lives! (they all bolt of there)

* * *

(Back in the bed room)

"Sage? Are ya ok? Ya're just blinkin'. Are ya even breathin'? Sage?"


	2. Why Manchester is One of the Centers of ...

_Why Manchester is One of the Centers of Evil_

Five in the morning is not the time to wake Rowen. Not if you want to live to see 5:01, at least. Cye made that mistake today.

"Wake up Rowen! We're going to the beach!" From the mound of pillows, blankets, flesh and bones on Rowen's bed out flew a pillow, smacking the door frame next to Cye's head and flopping to the floor. "Come on sleepyhead!" Cye jumped onto the mound.

"I'm gonna kill ya, pillow biter." Came a monotone voice from the depths of the cloths.

"Oh, come on." Cye giggled, reaching into the mound. He found a piece of flesh, a thigh maybe, and squeezed it tightly. The body underneath jerked away violently.

"Jesus Cye do ya know what ya just grabbed!"

"A thigh?" Innocence was in Cye's voice, but not his mind.

"Yeah, but ya were pretty damn high."

"High on yer thigh?" Rowen poked his head out. His hair looked like a five year old was his stylist and a whore was his makeup artist.

"Yes." Rowen replied flatly.

"Yer no-no spots?" There was a smirk on Cye's lips.

Rowen pouted, sticking his lower lip out. "Seriously. I'm gonna kill ya. Ya might as well start runnin' now."

Giggling at what he thought was mock anger, Cye replied as serious as he could (which wasn't really serious), "Kill me if you wish, but be warned, I might retaliate."

Rowen shook his head slowly. "I would say this is gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt ya, but I don't like to lie."

"Aw, mate--" Cye didn't get a chance to move as Rowen bolted out from under the blankets and tackled him in such a violent way that any linebacker who plays rugby on the side would be proud.

* * *

(Downstairs)

"Ryo?"

"Kento?"

"Do you hear those noises?"

"The ones that sound like a rapid massacre of chickens?"

"Yeah." Pause. "Or a 300 pound cat in heat."

Sage interjected. "Sounds more like tortoises fucking." Two confused pairs of eyes landed on him. "Well, it does. If you ever go to the Philadelphia Zoo, you will see what I mean. Gives a whole meaning to the term 'Brotherly Love'."

"Speaking of brotherly love, maybe we should stop Rowen from killing Cye?" Kento asked, a raised eyebrow directed to their leader.

"I warned Cye not to go wake Rowen up. The boy doesn't want to see the sunrise, especially if its on a beach."

The only sounds for a few minutes as the guys pondered Cye's fate were the indescribable screams/squeals/scowls that sounded almost British in origin. There was quite a few "bloody!"s, many "prat"s but the majority of the obscenities that drifted downward were words that shouldn't be said in mixed company. They would burn even the dirtiest ear clean of wax.

A few minutes later, Sage wrinkled his nose upward. "Honesty if they were going to go at it for more than a few minutes they could at least try and be respective and not scream so much."

* * *

(Upstairs)

Cye managed to squeeze out of Rowen's head lock and before the blue haired boy could gather his wits and make the next pounce the Brit was outta dodge. Rowen smirked to himself, and buried himself back under his mound, wondering how long it would take for the others to come up. Maybe once they saw the bite marks on Cye's back. Or the scratches on his neck. Or the indian burns he gave.

His personal favorite moment had been when Cye squealed something about getting Rowen in trouble for sexual harassment. And, as Rowen had the other boy pinned down with knees on thighs and hands on wrists, he whispered back that the proper term was 'sexual molestation'. It was deliciously sinful biting the hand that feeds.

Rowen tried to close his eyes and drift back into sleep. Unfortunately he was just awake enough that sleep wouldn't come but too tired to be awake (if you've ever been in that situation, is it dreadfully awful). Oh, he would make sure they feel the wrath of Lack of Sleep Rowen Tornado today.

A little known fact is that Rowen would eventually become high enough in the hierarchy of politics to declare war against the Brits for creating Cye and ruining this particular night's sleep. The notion stuck that there was something off kilter with the Britons and that is why people have come to understand over the years that Manchester is the work of the devil.


	3. Boiled Pine Needles, Nose Bleeds, and Sh...

**_Boiled Pine Needles, Nose Bleeds, and Shaking Hands with the Guv-nah_**

Ryo staggered down the hall, to the bottom floor, wondering why the light was on in the kitchen. Usually people weren't up at 2 in the morning. He thought he heard a roster get—er, _go_ off in the background but knowing there wasn't any chickens in this house, he waved it off as sleepiness insanity.

In the kitchen, Cye was leaning over the counter, tending to something in front of him. Ryo instantly felt his nose get wet and instinctively reached up to it. Drawing his hand back he was dismayed to see blood. Another nose bleed.

The other happened to turn around at that time, his hands drenched in a sticky liquid. "Oh Ryo!" He cried, wiping his hands absent mindly on a towel hung in his belt loop. "Are you olright?" He came to his friend's side, pressing the towel up to the offending appendage. Ryo was troubled and confused to realize the bleed was getting worse now that Cye was touching him.

"Whatcha making, boy-chama?" Ryo mumbled through the terry cloth.

"Meatball sandwich."

"Is that why your hands are tinted red? From the spaghetti sauce?"

Cye frowned slightly, looking down at his fingers. "Naw, they're stained from the cherries I was eating' earlier."

"Oh. Do we still have those pistachios? I wouldn't mind having some nuts for a night time snack."

"Too late, Kento ate them after dinner."

"Damn nimrod." Ryo mumbled.

"What was that about a ramrod?"

"Nothing."

Cye turned back around, busying himself with the stuff on the corner again. "Would you like a stiff one, Ryo?"

"A what?"

"Stiff drink." Cye turned back around, two martinis in his hands.

"Oh no, its too late to drink. I just want to eat something and go back to bed."

"I think there's some of Mia's peaches in the fridge."

"Naw, those are too old and moldy. I really want some nuts."

"Rowen's are in that cabinet." Cye gestured to the one above the fridge.

"Toasted?"

"Naw, only salted."

"Oh, hell no. Rowen's nuts are the saltiest. I wouldn't touch em with a ten foot pole."

"I know someone who has a ten foot pole." Cye whispered, a tint of something in his eyes. He was carefully sipping the martini, rolling the tooth pick that held a olive in one hand and looking over the glass at the boy who was sitting at the table. Ryo felt his nose get wet again and was dishearten when he realized he was getting another nose bleed. As he was tending to this recent faulty emission from his appendage, Sage walked in, carrying his bush.

"Oh, is the bonsai hungry?" Cye cooed, giving Sage's bush an affectionate pet.

"No." Sage snapped back, yanking the plant from Cye's reach.

"Tisk, tisk, Sage, I would be nicer to the two men that could have their guns blazing in seconds."

Sage raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Cye, we are used to seeing you get your gun off. I think its better to keep the big guns away for tonight."

Cye grinned, gnawing lightly on the edge of the martini glass. "I thought you liked my big gun, Sage?"

"Used to. But it shoots off too quickly."

"But you know the clip is always stocked and ready to go."

There was a short silence as Cye continued to sip his liquor, Sage continued to stoke his bush gently and whisper words of encouragement ("you will grow to be big and beautiful one day"), and Ryo sat at the kitchen table, wondering where he went wrong in leading these boys. Cye was a lost cause, there was no way that boy was going straight and narrow anytime soon. Sage was gone before they had the pleasure to meet. Anybody could tell by the purple shirts and the pants that were just a little too tight. Batting for the other team they were. Not the Warlord's side but the other side. Yeah, _that _side.

"You know, I miss doing things as a group. We should do more things together. Maybe we can go camping sometime soon?" Ryo asked hopefully.

"Sure, as long as Kento is the one who pitches the tent. He seems to be the only one who can do it really good and one handed." Cye answered, placing down the first glass and reaching for the second martini.

"No, Kento is too messy." Sage replied matter of fact.

"Oh look whose talking." Ryo said dryly. "This is coming from the boy who leaves everything sticky after he comes out of the bathroom."

"I can't help it if hair spray makes things sticky!"

"The shower floor was sticky last time I was in there. You gonna tell me you spray your hair in the shower?" Sage's face flushed a bright red.

"I-I-I was day d-d-dreaming, p-p-perhaps I did." Sage stuttered out.

"A wet day dream? Hmm." Cye mumbled. "Or maybe just a wet dream?"

"Maybe a 'shut the hell up'." Sage snapped back.

"You know, I've always wondered Sage, and you must know being" wink wink "roommates, that Rowen has blue hair, does he have blue balls?"

There was a sacrifice made that night as Sage ceremoniously dropped his potted plant onto Ryo's head and then, realizing what he had done, oozed to the floor, crying about his beloved.

Beloved plant that is.

"We should play poker!" Cye finally chirped up, his fifth martini grasped in his slightly shaking hands.

"No." Sage pouted from the floor. "Last time I played with you guys I couldn't sit down for a week without one of those donut cushions."

Ryo rolled his eyes upward. "That's only because Rowen thought we said _Poke Her_ not _Poker_. And then you bent down to pick up the fallen chips... Honesty you should have known it was coming."

After another brief pause. "You know what blokes?" Cye mumbled, playing with the olives on a stick again.

"Yeah, Cye?" Ryo asked, pleased to see he could talk to the boy without another... ah, spoke too soon. Damn nose bleeds. One of these days he was going to bleed to death from those...

"We are all going to hell."

"True, let's have some fun before we do."

"My room?" Cye asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Naw, mine. Come on." Before the blond could protest the other two had him by the elbows and upstairs, locked behind Ryo's bedroom door.

And there...

...they spend...

...the rest of the night...

...all three teenagers...

...gambling away their all the money they had.

They were completely spent after that night.

That's the problem with giving teenage boys money...

...they always try to see what they can buy with it...

...or who they can buy.

Let's just say, by seven o clock in the morning, Ryo was quite proud of himself because Cye's ass was his.

* * *

I'm sorry if that story doesn't make you snicker at least. If it doesn't, either you are dead or I have really lost it. 

But the real question is: Does Ryo own Cye's ass because the Brit is so in debt to him from the _poker_ game or was there other sexual favors going on between the boys, such as _Poke Her_? Which one did you think of first?

...Naughty people.


	4. The Fork Made Me Do It also known as The...

_The Fork Made Me Do It (as known as The Twinkie Defense)_

Kento was staring at his plate. He was waiting for something to magically appear and he was certain if he waited long enough something would happen. Certain because Cye was cooking.

"Kento, honesty, it will take a few minutes before the pancakes are done so you can stop staring at the plate. It will come when its ready." The bigger boy growled, but his eyes didn't waiver.

A few minutes later, with a nice plop, three pancakes were slabbed on the saucer. In second, really just a blink of an eye, they were gone.

"Keep eating like that and you are gonna get indigestion." Cye warned, going back to the oven top.

"Yes, _mom_." Kento groaned, rolling his eyes.

"I'm making one more set for you Kento, and then I have other work to do." Kento nodded oddly, still watching the plate. He was thinking of licking it. Licking things was always fun.

Cye dropped off three more pancakes, and gave Kento a gently pat on the head. With that, he disappeared out of the kitchen, leaving the hungry boy to devour his pancakes and wish for more.

Kento started twiddling his fork around, flipping the thing into the air and catching it with his other hand. He did this about five times when on the sixth it hit a minuet piece of dust in the air, sending it off kilter, missing Kento's hands. He looked at the offending dish ware, wondering why it would betray him in such a way.

"You stupid..." He mumbled, grabbing the piece of metal and was about to toss it across the room when he thought he heard something... Looking around viciously, he was certain he was alone. But he could still hear a whisper of _something_...

He glanced down at the fork, surprised to see the four prongs bent wildly, each in a different direction. If he didn't know better, it almost looked an anime character's hair cut...

"Kento, will you stop staring at me? I have been humiliated enough by getting shoved into your mouth whenever you eat, you can avoid undressing me with your eyes." Kento screamed, dropping the fork and scurrying as quickly as he could across the room and on top of the counters.

The fork righted itself, sighing deeply. "Humans. Jeesh. You're their loyal dish ware for months on end and when it comes to finally showing your true colors they throw you. 'Thanks for everything, all the food you've shoved it, now go!'"

"Y-Y-Y-you're my _fork_." Kento stuttered out, watching intently as the silver ware bobbed up and down in what might of been a nod.

"Would you rather be talking to a sand dune?" The thing smirked back.

"No, no, no, no, no," Kento kept repeating, burying his head in hands. "This isn't happening. Fork's don't talk. I'm just sleeping somewhere, day dreaming somewhere, doing something else beside talking to my fork. It's a hunger induced hallucination. Whatever that means, but it sounds like something Rowen would say to make me feel better... " His voice trailed off as he watched the fork do some sort of jig across the table, swaying its imaginary hips. It was singing in a child like voice. It paused suddenly, looked directly toward Kento and hissed, "You're thinking in Japanese! If you must think, do it in German!"

Kento blinked, whispering back one of his favorite excuses. "Thinking is a dangerous habit."

The fork started to twitch and grew two large fangs and screeched, "Red rum!"

Kento twitched, the fork seemed to smirk, and the fear of the gods was smacked into the boy. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Kento went running from the kitchen at full neck speed, not stopping to open doors or watch out for people. A nice Kento sized hole was created in the front door, but even that hunk of wood didn't stop the boy. He didn't stop running until a parked Mack truck happened to get into his pathway. Slipping down to the pavement below, Kento drifted off into a concussion induced sleep.

* * *

(Back in the living room)

"Ryo, you are evil." Mia muttered, frowning at the Kento size hole in her doorway. "Practicing ventriloquism on the poor boy."

"Well, maybe now he will eat less. Your grocery bills will be lower." The black haired boy next to her smirked. Mia paused, rolling around the words in her mind.

"Ryo," She mumbled, turning away from the cold breeze coming through the door, "you are brilliant. But any psychiatrist bills he needs you are paying for."


	5. Loaded

_Loaded_

"'ey guys, look what I found!" Cye squealed, walking in the living room with something cupped in his hands. The four in the room rolled their eyes. If it was any usual Cye findings it would involved a frog. Or a tadpole. Or a fish. But certainly nothing exciting. "Look, a black gun!" The four nearly jumped a foot from their spots as Cye stood in the doorway, standing very Charlie's Angels-esque, pointing the handgun at various people.

"Damn it, Cye, is that thing loaded?"

"I dunno." The Brit mumbled, looking at the piece. "But its brilliant, isn't it? I found its twin too, a white one." Ryo started to walk toward the boy, but backed off when the white gun came out. Now both hand guns were pointed into the room.

"Put the things down, boy." Kento commanded, "before you shoot someone. Again."

"'ey, 'ey, that was not me fault."

"Not yar fault!" Rowen cried from his spot on the couch. "Ya shot me in the ass with a pellet gun! I couldn't sit down for days on one cheek! And that's not yar fault!"

"But it was yer idea to come surprise the Brit with a loaded gun in his hands! You deserved that!"

"What!" Rowen cried, and shot up to his feet, starting to make a move for Cye. But he stopped mid step, his eyes wavering on the guns that were still raised high.

"Ok, ok, Cye, before this gets outta hand. Give me the guns." Ryo reached out his hands and Cye shook his head.

"No way. I like these things. They're awesome. They feel like someone made them personally. Maybe I'll become Cye, bearer of Torrent, Man with Handguns!" Cye took another Charlie's Angels pose.

"Well check to see if they're loaded. We'll let you keep em if they aren't." Ryo coaxed to a frowning Cye.

"Bloody... I'm what? 16? And the oldest too. So leave me the fook alone." Cye grumbled as he stormed out of the room.

"If he wasn't so damn cute..." Ryo mumbled under his breath, shaking his head.

* * *

(A couple weeks later)

"Guys?" Cye poked his head back into the living room. Four heads lifted up to look at him, this time fear in each of their eyes. They had learned over the past few weeks not to mess with Cye, the boy had guns and a temper that enabled him to use them. "Whateva happened to Ebony and Ivory, me guns?" Everybody blinked in union. "Me guns!" He cried exasperated. "Me loves." He mumbled holding his hands to his heart, as all four boys just blinked back. The Brit growled, and disappeared back out of the room.

"Kento, you got rid of those things, right?" Ryo whispered.

"Yeah, they're in the Coffin."

"That 135 gallon fish tank of his that's in the dining room?" Rowen asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeppers. I buried them into the gravel."

"...is that why his fish have been steady dying the past few weeks?" Sage asked.

"Perhaps." Kento mumbled.

"Well hopefully they'll rust beyond him being able to use them again. So nobody gets shot." Rowen growled.

Suddenly the ceiling above the couch exploded. Milliseconds later the window across from the room shattered.

"Hey mates I found me guns!" Cye cried from the other room. "And they're only a little watery and rusty but still workin'! And wouldn't you know, they ARE loaded!"

"Cye!" Sage screeched back, pulling plaster out of his hair. "Stop shooting your _gun_ off in the living room!"

The End

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!

(Oh, btw, I don't own the Ronin Warriors, Naruto, Good Omens, Futurama, Philadelphia Zoo, Devil May Cry, Gundam Wing, The Shining, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Charlie's Angels, and any fics that might have been hinted at. And anything else I might of mentioned. If you happen to own one of the former mentioned objects and do not like how they were portrayed then I will removed the offending pieces but I would hope you have good enough humor to see this is all in fun. And honesty, if you go to the Philadelphia Zoo you _will_ hear the tortoises go at it. One of em isn't called Grunt cuz he's cute! and if yer curious why the Coffin is called the Coffin, think of a glass box that is 72'x 18' x 24'. That's six feet by foot and half by two feet for you special people. Literally, it would make a nice place to bury a couple of people.)


End file.
